Page 12 of Wallflower
Up ahead, Izzy stops in front of the abandoned stables.
“Aunt Daisy says there used to be horses in here,” she tells me as I tug on the closed door. “Is that true, Uncle Chord? Did you ever ride the horses?”
A quick look inside confirms that aside from some old bales of hay and a punch of stale air, the stable is empty. Daisy pokes her head in with a wistful sigh, then takes Izzy’s hand as we keep on walking.
“We used to have horses,” I confirm. “But I didn’t ride them much.”
“You were too busy playing hockey,” Izzy declares like it’s a well-known fact.
“Uh, yeah.” I rub the back of my neck. “I guess I was.”
“There used to be twelve horses here,” Daisy says.
“Twelve?” Izzy’s eyes grow round. “That’s a whole dozen!”
“That’s right. And when your grandmother was still alive, she used to take people out on guided trail rides. She taught me how to ride a horse, and one day I’ll teach you, too.”
Izzy drops Daisy’s hand and spins in a delighted pirouette. Her little red cowboy hat falls off, catching around her neck by a cord, and I set it right again as she babbles with excitement.
“Are we getting horses, Aunt Daisy? Are they coming this week? I’m going to call mine Mabel.”
“Mabel?” Daisy shares an amused look with me. “Why Mabel?”
Izzy throws up her hands like that’s the silliest question she ever heard. “I don’t know. I just like that name.”
“Well, when we have horses again, you can name one Mabel. Until then…” Daisy scoops up Izzy and sets her on her hip. “Uncle Chord, crouch down a second, will you?”
I’m not sure what Daisy is planning until I squat low to the ground, and she deposits Isobel on my back. I look up at her with flat eyes.
Daisy responds with a shit-eating grin. “Giddy up, horsey.”
I stretch up to full height and grunt as Izzy kicks her hard little heels into my sides. I take off at an easy walk, then increase my pace as she whoops her hat over her head, yanking on the collar of my very expensive shirt, giggling and shouting, “Yeehaw!”
Behind us, Daisy cackles because, apparently, this is hilarious.
I don’t care what anyone says. I’m buying this kid a fucking horse.
seven
Violet
DAY 1 AT SILVER LEAF… ONLY 85 TO GO
I turn down thevolume in my car until Aerosmith is barely audible and concentrate on the instructions given by my GPS.Estimated time of arrival at Silver Leaf Ranch & Vineyard is thirty minutes.
Anticipation flickers in the hollow of my throat, but I tighten my fingers on the steering wheel and force myself to appreciate this moment. It’s a big one, and I don’t want to miss it.
The morning sky is all blue today, with only a few cottony clouds scudding along the horizon, and the fog has all but lifted, so I’m graced with views of never-ending fields and vineyards that meet green hills and low mountains. The beauty of Sonoma Valley is breathtaking.
I’ve lived in San Francisco for a decade and never been here. Wine country is the kind of place you go for romantic escapes with a boyfriend or boozy weekends with the girls. I have neither a boyfriend nor the girls, so I’ve never had a reason to visit.
The truth is, I’ve never traveled anywhere. Never chased adventure. Never spent any time away from home. I’m twenty-eight years old and about as worldly as a toddler. I owe it to myself to live this experience. I owe it to my dad, too.
When we said goodbye this morning, he was positive in a way that felt real, which made me think that even though neither of us expected this separation, it might be good for him.
Before I know it, I’m outside the tall white wooden gates of Silver Leaf Ranch & Vineyard. I pull over and hesitate, leaning over the steering wheel to get a better look at what’s inside.
There’s a long, wide driveway bordered by tall trees with silvery foliage, giving it the look of a quiet country lane. It’s too long to see what lies at the end, and sitting here doing nothing isn’t settling the butterflies, so I take a breath, turn the wheel, and ease my foot onto the gas pedal.
